Wicked Bad Boys (15 page)

W
e get dressed
and Jonathan drops me off at work. I almost can’t believe I told him so much about Robert and me. I’m impressed with him, and with myself too. I didn’t think I could be so open with anyone. What impressed me most was he listened so intently, and didn’t judge me, or react with any jealousy about Robert. I don’t even care that he’s admitted to being a playboy of sorts. What matters is I believe him, and he’s not threatened by Robert. I feel so close to him now, and God, I’m still aroused from our playtime this morning. I’m probably too close. Definitely too close, but it’s too late now.

I get to my office early. Thank goodness we set the alarm for a half hour earlier than I usually wake up. It’s the morning after Virocci is arrested and released, and I need to give Kara an update. If I know anything about her, she’s salivating in her office as she waits to find out who at the precinct dared to arrest one of our firm’s clients.

I pop by her office. Kara is in early as well. I walk into her office when her assistant tells me she’ll see me. At this point, I’m in over my head. I can’t have Jonathan as my client, and now Rob is part of the equation. It’s been over a year and a half since we broke up, but it feels like he betrayed me just days ago. Now, I’m supposed to put on a professional face and deal with him.

On top of all that, I haven’t seen anything suspicious in Jonathan’s behavior, even if he’s not opening up about his past. The evidence collected on Doreen Rushton has yet to come back from the lab. By now, I prefer Jonathan in my bed, so I’m thinking that maybe Kara can pass this case on to someone else, and spare me the clear conflict of interest in sleeping with a client while saving me the misery of having to deal with Rob.

She eyes me up and down while she finishes up her call. When she hangs up, I try to jump in with both feet, but she beats me to it.

“What happened to the Bahamas trip?”

“We’ve rescheduled it for tonight. That’s why I’m here. I don’t know if I can do this, Kara.”

She just looks at me. I’m about to continue, but a call comes in. She answers on speakerphone. The receptionist tells her it’s her brother, and patches him through.

“Phil? This had better be good.”

“Are you all set for Monday morning, Kara?” he asks.

“That’s why you called me? Come on, Phil.”

“You blew off the last three appointments, Kara.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be there.”

“Good. Are you eating?”

“You mean right now?”

“Don’t play smart with me.”

“Yes. I’m eating.”

“You sound tired. You need sleep, the pace you’re always going. With everything going on, it’s not healthy, sis.”

“Stop Phil. I’m fine. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Bye.”

She hangs up and looks at me again. Instead of letting me talk, she lifts a hand and tells the receptionist to send in Brian Beck, a junior legal analyst who works at the firm. Less than a minute later, he walks in, nervous as hell.

“Have a seat, Brian.” I get up to leave and she stops me. “No. You need to stay.”

She pulls a file from a small pile on her large mahogany desk. “How long have you been working here, Brian?” she asks, still looking in the file.

“Seven and a half years, Kara,” he answers, his voice wavering.

“That’s a long time to know how things work around here.”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s been a pleasure working for you.”

“I wish the feeling was mutual.”

“Pardon me?”

“Brian, who did I trust to compile the data from the Arthurian case?”

“Me, ma’am,” he mumbles.

“Come again?”

“You trusted me, ma’am,” he says more loudly, but with just as much nervous energy.

“Okay, and who let my client liaison on the case look like a fucking idiot when she didn’t have her facts straight on one of our biggest class action lawsuits ever?”

“I did, ma’am. In my defense, the clients acknowledged they had only sent the correct files to me on the morning of the meeting.”

“Just that morning? The briefing was at seven that night, Brian!” she shouts. “You sat on pivotal information for nine hours and you think you have an excuse?”

“You pulled us into a mandatory all-day meeting that day, ma’am. I couldn’t possibly have…”

“Couldn’t possibly have checked that fucking blackberry on your hip during the all-day meeting? Couldn’t possibly have created such a catastrophic fuck-up all by yourself? Well, I for one take responsibility for the mistake, Brian, and I will not let it happen again. Brian, you’re fired.”

“You’re not serious.”

Kara turns to me and asks me to tell her what I needed to talk about. Brian is still looking at her, in shock.

“Kara, the clients apologized. Please, listen to me.”

“You listen to me, Brian. Get out of my office and start packing up your desk.”

He stands and storms over to her office door. “This is bullshit, Kara.”

“I agree. That report was the biggest, steamiest pile of bullshit ever put together by this office. Congratulations. Now get the fuck out and keep walking.”

She waits for Brian to finally leave, then turns to me. “What were you saying?”

Kara has a flair for the dramatic, and would probably love for me to cave and tell her never mind. I continue as if nothing just happened.

“I think I’d prefer to go back to what I was doing before you assigned the Sloan case to me, Kara.”

“Go back? There isn’t any such thing as going back around here. There’s just forward, or…out.”

“He hasn’t been charged yet. Maybe you can assign someone more…more appropriate to work with him.”

“Exactly who do you think that would be?”

“I don’t know. Someone more senior.”

“I don’t need anyone else on this case, Rebecca. I need you to handle this phase. I trust you’re smart and mature enough to hold it down. Is that reason enough?”

I take a breath. “No. I don’t think it’s enough, Kara.” I can’t believe I just stood up to my boss after she made me witness one of her famous termination meetings. “Why was I chosen for this assignment?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Now, I’ll warn you just this once. Tread lightly with what you say next. Otherwise the only two assignments you may have after this are finding Brian’s replacement or joining him on the job hunt.”

At least the woman lets you know where you stand. I try to think of some other redeeming qualities she has, but I come up with nothing.

“I don’t feel I have the skill set yet,” I explain.

“I chose you because I trust you…and because you wanted more responsibility.”

“Are you sure you give a damn what I want?” I mumble.

“Pardon me?”

“Nothing.”

Kara gets up and walks around her desk to sit in the guest chair next to mine. “Listen carefully, Rebecca. The Sloans and Fairchilds are some of this firm’s biggest clients. I need you to press on. Think of it as taking one for the team. Give it a little time to jell.”

I think it’s jelling plenty, but I don’t tell her that. “Okay,” I say, letting out a long breath.

“There’s a lot at stake, Becky. I need you to stick with it. You can’t just jump ship when things get rough. Sometimes you have to put your own comfort aside and ride through.”

Stick with it. Ride through. If only she knew.

“I didn’t want to get into it,” she continues, “but, okay, I’ll add this. These two families need me more than they have ever needed representation. I’m not one to desert a friend and valuable client in their toughest moments. I don’t expect you to either. Understood?

“Yes. I think I do. Okay. If they’re in some trouble, I’ll stay on it.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell you something, Becky. You do this one thing for me. Stick it out to the end, no matter the outcome. The next promotion that opens up in this firm, it’s yours if you want it.”

I look up at her. “I haven’t been here a year yet. You’d make an exception to the policy for me?”

“Becky. It’s my firm. I made the policy. It’s for the average lawyer. You’re nowhere near average. Carry this through, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Now tell me Rebecca, what happened last night at the precinct?”

J
ust as I suspect
, Kara wants to know exactly what happened. She walks back to her seat on the other side of the desk and tells me to give her a detailed report-back on last night. I’m not ready to rehash the part about Jonathan getting into a fistfight with Rob. Kara is growing impatient by the minute, so I sit and I spill as much as I can.

“Okay Kara. I arrived at the precinct with Jonathan, and we were told that Tony Virocci was being held on a weapons charge. I demanded to see him. They kept us waiting for forty-five minutes. According to them, the items in his car were being processed. During that time, I saw Bateman. He’s not assigned to the case, but I asked him to try and find out what was going on.

“The detective realized Virocci had all his permits in order. I know you’re probably aware Virocci has had a clean record for the past six years, and the charge from six years ago was dropped. Before that, his record has been clean for twenty-five years. They released him, but according to Virocci, he was questioned aggressively before I got there, even after he told them he wanted his lawyer present.”

“How aggressively are we talking?”

“He said he was harassed about Doreen Rushton. According to him, they asked whether she was visiting Solomon the night she was killed. They threatened to put him in front of a grand jury if he didn’t give them what they wanted on Solomon Sloan.”

“What?” Kara practically screams the question. The vein on her forehead pops up. Her eyes are glaring at me, and she leans forward in her chair.

“Yes.” I say. “A grand jury.”

“What evidence do they have?”

“Nothing that they’ve let us in on.”

“Did they search his person? Or just the car?”

“He said it was just his car. They may have patted him down for concealed weapons, but he was clean.”

“Was he hurt physically?”

“No.”

“Okay. Well it sounds like they’re fishing. It’s a good thing Virocci has a clean record. If they had anything on him, they probably would have pushed harder. They can still threaten to charge him with something if he won’t cooperate or voluntarily turn on Solomon.”

“Why would they go that far so soon? Why not wait until the evidence from Doreen comes in?”

“They have to do something while they wait. It’s too high profile to wait on the evidence. Right now, they’re shaking trees to see what falls out. I wouldn’t be surprised if they planned that random search of theirs.”

“Is there something we can do?”

“We need to send a message that my clients are off limits. I’ll get Webster on it. You focus on Jonathan.”

“Okay. So what will Webster do for next steps?”

“I’ll have him start a complaint on Virocci’s behalf about the grand jury threat. If we don’t fight back now, they’ll think they can do it again, or worse the next time.”

“Sounds good. The only other problem with what happened last night, Kara, is what Rob told me off the record.”

“What’s that?”

“They may have swabbed all Virocci’s weapons and checked them for prints, blood and DNA while they were holding him.”

“Well if the idiots did that, it’s illegal. None of the evidence gathered from Virocci’s vehicle will be admissible. I’ll make sure it’s never heard or seen in court, if it comes to that. What else?”

“It’s not that, Kara. I know it’s inadmissible. I’m more worried about how they’ll adjust the targeting of their investigation, depending on what they find.”

“Good point. They’re more likely to look at Solomon if they find anything on Virocci. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Not to worry. Was there anything else?”

“No.” I relax in the chair, relieved she hasn’t asked me about Jonathan again. “That’s it.”

“Okay. So when do you leave for the Bahamas?”

“Sometime this evening.”

“Excellent. Go on home, then. Get some rest. Be ready. Stay on top of Jonathan while you’re down there.”

“Will do.” I get up to leave her office when I hear her again.

“Rebecca?”

“Yes?” I answer, stopping to turn and look at her.

“You make sure he comes back when the weekend is over.”

Kara grabs her purse and tells me she has to take care of something. She does not invite me to come along. I can’t imagine what she’s about to do, but I get the sinking feeling it involves Solomon Sloan. Knowing Kara, I already understand that whatever she does, if it involves protecting Solomon, it’s likely to expose Jonathan even more.

I
drop
Rebecca off at work and head home to meet Dad. I probably have an hour before he gets here, so I shower and head downstairs in my robe to put on a pot of coffee. I’m on the last sip of my first cup when I hear my phone ring. I know it’s Dad from the ring tone. I hurry to finish and grab the phone on the last ring. He tells me he’s on his way over and will be here soon. We have a lot to discuss. This Mandy issue can’t be ignored any longer.

I hurry to get dressed. I’m barely down the stairs when the front door opens. Dad has come alone. Thank goodness. I don’t wait a minute to get into it.

“What’s going on with Mandy, Dad?”

“Oh, you too? Can’t a man get a chance to sit and get comfortable before the third degree starts?”

“Sit, Dad,” I tell him. I watch him as he sits. “There. Are you comfortable?”

“Sure.”

“Now tell me about Mandy.”

“Shit,” he growls, leaning forward with his head in his hands. “She wants a divorce now. Can you believe that? After all this time, and after I took such good care of her.”

The man is distraught, and also delusional. Granted, he doted on her during her cancer treatments. Still, for him to think Mandy has no reason to want a divorce, he has his head up his ass. Right now, though, I don’t have much concern about their relationship. That’s his cross to bear. I just want to know what dirt she has on him, and what’s pissed her off enough to threaten to go to the police.

I get back to the pressing matter. “What’s this about some trunk full of stuff she found?”

“Oh that. Who told you about it?”

“Claire was here yesterday.”

“Fuck. Her mother told her? Shit. We have to get this taken care of before it gets out of control.”

“What’s in the truck?” I ask again.

He shifts around, then leans back in the sofa. “It’s nothing major. Just some keepsakes.”

“What kind of keepsakes, Dad? Who do they belong to?”

He doesn’t answer me. He just looks at me, then turns his face away. Oh fuck. Well, fuck me. I’m praying the man has not been keeping souvenirs from the girls he’s offed over the years. The way he’s looking at me, fuck, I’m almost sure that’s exactly what he has inside the trunk. I just hope it’s underwear or locks of their hair, and not fingers or ears. Fuck my life right now. I can’t believe this shit.

“Answer me, Dad. What is it? Where is the trunk now?”

“Mandy has it. I don’t know where she put it, otherwise I’d get it from her and destroy the contents. I was hoping you could convince her to give it back, and to come back home.”

“Christ, Dad. Me? Why me? Why not Claire? Or even better, why don’t you talk to your wife?”

“She refuses to see me right now.”

“Well then apologize, beg, plead, buy her something,” I tell him. “Get her some art.” I say that to see if he knows anything about Michael. He doesn’t flinch or react. Maybe he doesn’t know. “Don’t put me in the middle of this. I think I’ve signed up for enough, don’t you agree? I’ve worked my ass off for you, and now I’m about to put my head on the chopping block. Isn’t that enough?”

“Hard work doesn't always protect you on the downside, and none of us get to play for free.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The timing isn’t good for me to go to war with Mandy, son. She’ll listen to you.”

“You’re probably right that she’ll listen,” I concede, raking an agitated hand through my hair. “I’m not so sure she’ll do anything I say.”

He looks up at me. “What do you mean?”

There’s no point lying to my father. He has a powerful built-in radar for bullshit, especially where I’m concerned. I could never lie to him, so I tell him. “She asked me to come see her this weekend.”

“You saw her?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me more intently. “Where?”

I get up and start pacing. This is my father, but if he really wants me to help with Mandy, I can’t be the one to betray her trust about Michael or where she’s staying. I especially can’t betray her if there’s anything in that trunk that can bring Dad down. I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to tell him his wife is having an affair. If he really wants to know, he’ll find out soon enough.

“It doesn’t matter where I saw her. I’ll talk to her, all right?” I pull out my phone and look for her number. “I’ll text her now and see if she can meet me when I get back next Monday.”

“Not good enough,” he answers as I’m sending the text. “I need you to take care of this trunk issue today.”

“I’m flying out this afternoon,” I tell him, looking at my watch.

“It’s still mid-morning. You’ve got more than enough time to see her before you leave.”

“Christ. Okay, but when I do this, Dad, I want you to promise you’ll leave me out of anything new.”

“I can’t make that promise to you either.”

“Shit. Don’t you think you’ve got me doing more than my fair share already?”

“Let me tell you something, son. There’s doing your share, and then there’s doing what it takes. They’re not always the same.”

“Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll go see her now.”

“Good, and when you meet her, you can also remind her how important this Warrior deal is for Sloan Sports.”

I’m in disbelief that he still has the Warrior acquisition on his mind.

“Seriously? I just told you I don’t want to deal with anything new. Let’s get this trunk issue out of the way. I’ll beg her to let you meet with her so you can talk to each other. That’s enough, Dad. Maybe that Warrior deal needs to go on the back burner. If she can’t trust you right now, I can’t see how she’ll want to help you close that deal.”

“This Warrior acquisition is a shot at really big business, son…for both of us. I was going to talk to you about this when this Rushton issue blew over.”

He acts like the Rushton issue is someone else’s little problem. Such a small problem, it’s an issue. It’s as though he forgot he created it, and that it’s my fucking life hanging in the balance.

“When the deal is done,” he continues, “I want you with me at the helm. There are only a few people who I think can be really, really exceptional at this, and son, you’re one of them. Remember the thing I always told you was my number one rule in business?”

I repeat his mantra like a parrot. “Nobody gives you shit, Dad.”

“Exactly. Nobody gives you shit. You want to leave something behind in this life, you go out and you work your ass off, and you build it. What do you say?”

He won’t stop pressing me on this. I know him too well. I have to get him out of my place. I start walking to the door. “I’ll think about it, Dad. Besides, who knows if I’ll be a free man after it’s all said and done. I’ve got to take care of some things, Dad, and now I also have this Mandy deal with the trunk. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“You might as well talk to her about Warrior too, while you’re there anyway.”

I glower at the man. He has a massive set of balls if he thinks she’ll forgive him in one moment, and approve a half a billion dollar transaction the next. I’m tired of his shit right now. I tell him I’ll try, just to get him out of my hair.

“Good. Thanks, son.” I open the front door and he finally gets to his feet. “I have a full day today. I’ll talk to you when you get back. I’m not too happy about the timing of this island vacation of yours, but I understand. Have a good time, son. I’ll see you in a few days.”

He meets me at the front door and puts a hand on my shoulder. He gives me a heartfelt thanks as we walk to the elevator. He even hugs me as we wait. For fuck’s sake, the man can manipulate.